The Billionaire's Pretend Wife (Isabella)

Chapter 38 Thirty Eight

When Jacob’s finger tugged on the towel and it became a little loose, Isabelle snapped out of the

trance he had distracted her into. Her face flushed afresh, and as her mind rattled back into work-

mode, she realised how precarious her situation was.

She had let this go too far.

Pushing Jacob’s hand away, she ducked under his arm and reached for her door. This time, he didn’t

stop her as she twisted the handle and pushed the door open. She slammed it closed behind her–as if

to further emphasise that she was not up for whatever he had in mind.

Rushing to her mirror, she pressed her hands to her face and took deep breaths. She had no idea who

she was more pissed at–him for teasing her in her state of undress, or her for giving him any sign that

she liked it.

It seemed that she was getting too comfortable with him and forgetting that not only was he her pretend

husband, but that she was also deceiving him about her identity. Nothing could happen between them

as long as she was living a lie.

Outside the door, Jacob cursed and raked his hand through his hair. Had he been too pushy? The last

thing he wanted was to scare her away or make her vigilant around him. Their relationship had come a

long way from when they were newlyweds wary of each other–or, to be honest, him being wary of her–

and he didn’t want things to go back to that.

With a last longing look at her door, he walked to the kitchen for a cold drink to help him cool down.

***

As Isabelle walked into the company building the next morning, a sense of foreboding loomed over her

and refused to let go. She clutched her bag tightly in her hand to keep her hands from trembling, and

ended up digging her nails into her palms.

Trying to calm herself down was impossible. Even while she tried to not fall apart on the outside, her

heart was thudding in her chest, and she was certain that was why she was feeling light-headed.

It got worse as she got in the elevator and headed to her office floor. In less than a minute, she was

going to walk into her department. Where Mr Grayson was probably waiting to make her pay for the

previous night’s incident.

Jacob’s assurances had almost convinced her that she didn’t have to worry, but none of that

confidence he had instilled in her remained. She was walking into the lion’s den alone, and heaven only

knew whether she would walk out with her job.

The morning began without any incident, and she almost believed that Mr Grayson had no intention of

hunting her down for revenge. But that belief was crushed when a short while after ten o’clock, he

walked out of his office and came straight to her desk.

“Ms Cruz, you’re fired,” he said, loud enough for her and whoever else was in the vicinity to hear.

She opened her mouth to say something, but his sudden announcement had shocked her into

speechlessness.

When he saw that she wasn’t saying anything, he proceeded, “Clear out your desk as fast as possible,

you’re no longer a part of this company.”

It was when he turned away to leave that she shot to her feet, finding her voice. “Why?” she asked. Of

course she knew why, but he couldn’t give that as a reason for firing her, could he? She wanted to

know what excuse he was using to get his revenge.

Mr Grayson turned around and gave her a hateful glare. “Because you are not suitable for the position,”

he replied.

Not good enough for the position? That was what he was going with? After the gruesome interviewing

process she had gone through and aced? “How am I not suitable?” she demanded.

A murmur rose among her coworkers.

“Her design got selected for the autumn winter series exhibition,” someone said. “I’m pretty sure she’s

suitable.”

Mr Grayson threw a glare towards the person who said that. “I’m the department director, I’m sure I

know better than you who’s suitable for this job.”

“But we heard that she passed all her interviews exceedingly,” another person added. “Personally I

think she is quite talented.”

As more people agreed with that sentiment, Mr Grayson got angrier, and Isabelle got braver. Even if he

wanted to assert his seniority as the director, he was dreaming if he thought she was going to let him

have his way without taking this further. As far as she was concerned, he was abusing his position, and Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

thankfully, he wasn’t at the top of the ladder. There were people he was answerable to, and she would

make sure to present her grievance to them before packing up just because he said so.

“If you do not do as I say,” he told her, stepping towards her threateningly, “everybody here will find out

exactly what kind of woman you are.”

His cold tone caused a chill to run down her spine, and she swallowed. What did he mean by that?

Getting close to her, he told her in a low volume so that nobody else heard, “As the department

director, I refuse to work with someone who tries to seduce me to get favours at work.”

Isabelle gaped. That. He had said that if she reported him, he would twist the story around to place the

blame on her. It would also be easy to pin it on her in this situation if he was pressed to provide a viable

reason for firing her.

The look he gave her as he stepped back told her that he had every intention of making that claim right

away.

She closed her trembling hands into fists, unable to think of a way around. Unless she could get proof

that he was lying, everybody would believe his story. Her only option was to leave silently.

Mr Grayson turned away to go back into his office, but stopped a second later when a voice called his

name from the entrance. Isabelle turned to find Mr Del Mundo, the vice president, coming forward. But

he was not alone–he was accompanied by three police officers, and the entire office turned attention to

the new spectacle.

Mr Grayson turned around and met the group halfway. “Is anything the matter, sir?” he asked the vice

president.

One of the police officers stepped forward and faced Mr Grayson. “We have received a video showing

that you’re a suspect in the attempted rape of Ms Isabelle Cruz. We’d like you to come down to the

station with us.”

“What?” Mr Grayson demanded. “What’s this nonsense?”

“The video clearly shows you dragging Ms Cruz into a room,” the officer provided. “Come with us and

we’ll talk about it at the station.”

Mr Grayson’s eyes found Isabelle, and he took a threatening step towards her. “You bitch–”

Isabelle took a step backwards quickly, but one of the officers grabbed his arm to keep him from getting

to her.

As the officer steered Mr Grayson towards the exit, he turned to the vice president, shaking his head.

“There has been a mistake. It’s all a lie. I would never do that!”

The vice president simply asked him to cooperate with the police and to not make a scene. As the

group left, the entire office watched, surprise etched on all of their faces.

Isabelle was astonished too and couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“That must be why he was attempting to fire you,” one of her colleagues said. “What a jerk!”

“Thank God he was captured on camera,” someone else said. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through

that, Isabelle.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Del Mundo will make sure he never sets foot here again,” someone else comforted

her.

She sure hoped so.

But, who had filed the report against Mr Grayson?